


Cuddle Buddies

by Magisey



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Genital Piercing, Light BDSM, M/M, Not Beta Read, PWP, Pet Names, Praise Kink, They loud and they should be quiet, Top Hanzo Shimada, light somnophilia - it's just sleepy grinding, pre-negotiated scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:57:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14417169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magisey/pseuds/Magisey
Summary: Their fancy hotel destroyed, the team is stuck in a cheap ass motel. Cuddling for warmth gives them some unintended consequences.





	Cuddle Buddies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChillieBean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/gifts).



> For ChillieBean <3
> 
> Not beta read.

Jesse stood silent, eyeing his opponent. It wouldn’t be easy: Hanzo is like an ice wall. Impenetrable even to his well-trained eyes. They stood a few paces away, arms at their side, prepared to draw. It’s sad that it came down to this, but there’s no way that he would lose, not with so much at stake.

“Three.” His voice calls out in the cramped room.

“Two.” Hanzo replies.

“One.” A whisper from Jesse.

Together, “DRAW!”

His hand jerks up, holding out a fist. Across from him, Hanzo’s smug grin is the first thing the gunslinger sees. The second is his hand... held flat and horizontal.

“I believe paper beats rock. I win again, McCree.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Jesse tosses his hat down, a desperate laugh coming out of him. He didn’t want to sleep on the edge of the bed. It was so damn cold in this ratty hotel room. Next door he could hear Hana’s shout of ‘Keep it down!’ almost as if she were in the room. Thin walls, mildewed drapes, and peeling paint. Next thing he knew, a super cockroach would come out of the wall and their bed would be covered in holes. At least Mercy had the foresight of packing those anti-bedbug canisters. It sanitized the bed enough that even someone as picky as Hanzo would sleep on it.

Which the archer is preparing to do. Jesse watches, with his arms folded over his chest like a petulant child, as Hanzo removes his clothes. “Just ain’t fair. This place is shit.”

“Indeed. But,” The archer stops and looks over at him, “Our original hotel was destroyed thanks to the omnium we are investigating.” Sighing through his nose, Hanzo shrugs limply. He folds up his Gi and shoves it into his duffle bag before pulling out a plain black t-shirt, “I won fair and square. Twice. Now stop bellyaching and prepare for bed.”

The walls are so damn thin… The supplies Jesse had brought with them were definitely going to go to waste. Still, he puts them in the bedside table with a grumble. He starts to strip too, taking care to fold his clothing as well. The last thing to do is help Hanzo with his legs - the temperature was going to drop harshly, and the metal would leach body heat. At least they had the excuse that cuddles were  _ vital _ for survival in this crap hotel _. _ Not that Jesse suspects anyone will pop a head into their room. 

Once Hanzo’s legs are taken off and his own arm is stowed away, he climbs into bed. The archer is curled in the sheets, back pushed close to the wall. Huffing, Jesse subjects himself to the small spoon routine. In reality, it is all in good fun - there is nothing as warm and soothing as his lover’s strong arms holding him tight.

 

He wakes up some hours later, groggy and tired, but uncomfortable. Something is pressing against him and it makes the gunslinger wiggle around. Something firm and pressing into his rear. Understanding, as well as consciousness, hits him, waking him fully.

There is a bulge pressed to his ass. Heat slams into Jesse’s core, a sharp soft gasp making him tense. From its sleepy state his cock awakens, fills and lays thick against his thigh. Hanzo’s breathing is even and slow, soft air against the hair on the back of his neck. Without thinking, he wiggles again feels the way the thickness presses against him.

Hanzo groans and rolls his hips against him. Hard and firm. Jesse’s stomach twists, eyes fluttering shut as he bites his lower lip, swallowing a whimper. His cock throbs, begging to be touched. One of the archer’s hands paws at his hip, kneading it loosely as he rolls a faltering,  grinding rhythm into McCree. Lazy and slow, pausing here and there from how Hanzo is clearly still half asleep, his body on autopilot. It’s unsatisfying in that Jesse aches for more. He wants to be split open by Hanzo’s dick, not teased endlessly. 

Cautiously, he grinds back. The loose material of his sweatpants bunches up around his hip and cock, tightening the hold. Hanzo’s breath against his neck makes him shudder, goosebumps rolling along his skin. Self control be damned, Jesse fumbles to get a hand under the blanket. His fingers trace the outline of his twitching, hot length. On his side, it’s trapped in his pants and against his hip, the bunched material making it hard to get to. 

Still, even roughly palming himself is better than nothing. Pleasure sparks up and down his spine as he grinds the heel of his palm into his dick. The friction is so  _ good _ . Coupled with slowly rolling his hips back against Hanzo. He’s too far gone to notice that the other man has stopped moving. 

“What do you think you’re doing, gunslinger?” Hanzo’s voice rumbles in his ear, hot and slurred from sleep. Jesse freezes, cheeks fire red, and tries to slide his hand away. A rough grind against his ass forces him to stop, a breathy moan escaping him. For a moment they still, Jesse’s heart singing in his ears, a thunderous drumming that shakes him to his core.

But it fades, and no one is banging on their wall to be quiet. Jesse relaxes and sighs in relief, “Sorry, sugar. Guess all my fidgettin’ got us a little worked up.” It was too risky to do anything, even jacking off could be too loud. 

Hanzo’s teeth graze his earlobe, his lips pressed right to the shell of Jesse’s ear. The hand that had been kneading his hip slides forward and palms the hard line of his cock, and Jesse sees stars. “H-han.”

“You only need to apologize if you intend to stop.” Hanzo’s words are like thunder in his veins, shaking through him in one slow shutter. Hard hips roll into him, more insistent than before, more patterned. Relief sings in him, a sigh whispered from his lips as his eyes close. Jesse falls into the easy grinding motions like he was built to do just that. To grind and press his ass against Hanzo’s cock, to take his lover so completely. 

The hand on his cock outlines it, presses the thin sweatpant fabric to the hot length. Its like Hanzo’s drawing it with his fingertips, the way he traces each section, all the way down to his taunt, clothbound balls to his leaking tip. Pre has made a wet spot, and those dexterous fingers abuse it. It is rubbed against his glans, the archer’s thumb pressing through the material against his slit. Jesse gasps and thrusts, the first to break rhythm.

A growl of a chuckle comes from behind him, lips now trailing along his neck. Each kiss is like a firecracker of heat and sensation, the nerves awakening below Hanzo’s gentle ministrations. “So sensitive for me. You’ve kept me awake, Jesse, wiggling around as you have. On purpose?”

“N-no.” He hates, and loves, the stutter in his words. It is embarrassing how eager his body is for Hanzo, how the man can awaken every primal need with a few whispered words and touches. Hanzo pulls his hand away from the cock and Jesse whines before he can swallow it down. The blush on his cheeks grows hotter, scalding the tips of his ears now.

“Peace…” Fingers capture his chin, turning it. They kiss, sloppy and open-mouthed - hardly connected at the odd angle, but it feels good. Hanzo pressed so tight against him, almost on top of him but not quite. A slow slide of tongue against tongue, tasting one another, feeling their heated breath. The way Hanzo’s beard rubs rough against his skin, the pleasant friction of it, is intoxicating. Almost as intoxicating as the words growling into his ear, “You have been naughty, My Sun. You ought to be punished.”

If they were aiming for quiet, the pet name is certainly going to ruin that. Jesse groans between clenched teeth, a shiver wracking his upper body. Hanzo presses soft kisses against his neck and shoulder, waiting for a response. Jesse could say no, turn it down, make this into something else - Hanzo gave him that out. It’s the fact he had a choice, one he knew Hanzo would respect happily, that overwhelmed and turned him on even more.

“What…” Jesse is breathless as he speaks, twisted to see Hanzo’s sparkling eyes in the low light of the room, “What sort of punishment, My Moon?” The smirk that spreads across his lover’s face is dazzling.

Gently, Hanzo bites at the gunslinger’s lower lip, tugging on it lightly. “You want this, don’t you?” Jesse swallows thickly, wetting his lips with his tongue. Hanzo watches him through half-lidded eyes, his hands rubbing and pawing at his lover’s side and chest, straying from where Jesse aches to be touched, “Why don’t you beg for it?”

“Fuck.” The curse is reverent, lost in wide-eyed glory as Jesse pushes against Hanzo’s shoulder and back. He wants to lie below him, to feel the weight of muscle and man above him, but Hanzo doesn’t move. Instead, the archer shakes his head, his hands like steel on Jesse’s hip.

“No, My Sun. Like this.” Teasingly, the grinding returns. Jesse feels like he could melt into the bed, his dick throbbing. Sucking in a sharp breath, he fists the blanket and bites down a keen as Hanzo thrusts against him. He wants to beg, wants to so badly, but the words are lodged in his throat, unwilling to come out. Jesse buries his face against his shoulder, eyes pinched closed.

Hanzo’s grinding slows, his kisses soft and tender on Jesse’s skin. “No need to be shy, it’s just you and me.” And Hanzo waits, kissing and tender and patient. Like always. Like a sniper, knowing his prey will show. “Just you and me, My Sun. Do you want it?”

Yes, a voice screams in his head. It’s so hard to struggle past the pride and nerves that hold him hostage. “Y-yes.” Jesse finally chokes out, relief washing over him. It’s like a dam bursting, the flow of words unstoppable, “Yes, please. I want you so fuckin’ bad. Want you to fuck me senseless, Han -- My Moon. Please.”

He can  _ feel _ the smile on his skin, pressed there, “I,” Hanzo’s voice is filled with reverence, “Am so proud of you. You did so good. So good for me.”

Jesse arches, the words like liquid fire over his body, “Wanna be good for ya. Always wanna be good for ya.” It pours out of him in desperate, breathy gasps. Nothing the gunslinger has said has ever been truer - he aches to be good for Hanzo, to be loved and praised and  _ needed _ . 

“You are, My Sun. You are so very, very good to me.” Hanzo soothes, the hand on his hip stroking slowly up and down, giving something for Jesse to focus on, “You deserve a reward.”

Jesse’s pants are pulled down, the cool air of the motel smacking his heated skin. They wiggle off with a little help. Calloused fingers wrap around his cock, brushing the velvet hot skin. Hanzo teases, spreading precum along his length before squeezing, getting Jesse to buck into his hand. Slow strokes with a twist of the wrist at the end, the sort that drags out soft, helpless grunts. Those soft kisses on his neck and shoulder turn harder, teeth scraping his skin. A hickie sucked into the corner of his neck.

Jesse’s hand flies to his mouth, muffling a deep moan. Hanzo continues to nip and bite, leaving trails of bruises everywhere he goes. “My Sun, move your hands. I want to hear your moans.” 

When he doesn’t obey, the stroking stops. Jesse is left throbbing and hard in a loose hand, frustrated tears rising in his eyes. Swallowing, he pulls his hand down, “We gotta be quiet Ha ---” One layer of clothing down, Jesse can feel the bulge better, can feel the pressure of the cock against his ass. The moan that comes out is low and sinful, rolling from the tips of his toes and out his mouth. “F-fuck!”

“Why don’t you move your hips for me?” In retaliation, Jesse thrusts back, rolling his hips against Hanzo’s hard on. The man has stopped stroking, simply holding his hand tight as Jesse fucks himself into it recklessly. His breathing nothing but short, hurried pants. Thrust into the hand, back against the cock. Feel the grind of material against his ass. Then back into the hand. McCree’s eyes flutter shut, lost to the rhythm, his cheeks fire red as he drools on their bed.

“Look at your pretty blush. Such a lovely picture.” Hanzo’s voice is even, but strained. He’s losing composure, his hips chasing after McCree as he pulls away. All too soon, the archer pulls away completely, leaving Jesse unsatisfied.

“No c’mon, don’t do this to me. I need it I --”

“You’ll have it.” Hanzo soothes, a quick kiss silencing him, “Lube?” Jesse scrambles to grab it from the side drawer, shoving it into Hanzo’s hands. Just hearing the cap has his body tensing in excitement, knowing what is going to happen next.

Skillful fingers rub at his entrance. Jesse sighs, relaxing as they start to enter. This used to be the worst part. It took a long time and felt pointless, a step to be skipped over when engaging casual partners. Now, the gunslinger almost looks forward to it. There’s intimacy behind it, in feeling Hanzo open him up with endless patience and honeyed words of praise. They pour into his ears, drip by drip, doing as much to pleasure Jesse as the brushes against his prostate. Soon enough, he was moving with the fingers, in and out. Riding them and moaning softly, lost to the push and pull.

Until they are gone. Jesse’s eyes flutter open. He blearily looks over his shoulder to watch Hanzo wipe the excess lube on his cock and line up. Glancing up, the archer smiles warmly and kisses his ear. He rasps against it, “Relax… just lie back and let me make you cum.” 

Even with the prep, the press of being penetrated aches deep inside McCree, his muscles clenching until he regains control. Hanzo is big and pierced. Three frenum line his cock, and Jesse counts each one as it enters. One, by the head. “D-darlin’...” He sighs, feeling his muscles clench and release on the intrusion. Two, the middle. The press of metal rubbing over his stretched muscle, on the middle of Hanzo’s cock. “My Moon…” Three, near the base. Jesse’s breathing is shallow and fast, his hand clutching his dick hard so he doesn’t cum prematurely. It feels  _ amazing _ , the stretch and pull of the cock inside him stirring up everything.

Hanzo remains still, kissing his shoulder and hickies, his hips giving little grinds but otherwise letting Jesse adjust. “I love it when you squeeze around me, My beautiful glorious Sun.” He gasps, pressing back against Hanzo, even if there’s nowhere to go. 

“Move, please. Fuck.” Jesse presses his face against the pillows as Hanzo adjusts him better. Hanzo’s chest presses tight against his back, tight enough he can feel the cool metal of his nipple piercings and the etched hardness of his abs. One of the archer’s hands lifts his leg by the thigh, holding it there.

Jesse can feel every piercing pull out, each one ratcheting up the pleasure and anticipation that much further. One, two, three - each metal bump rubbing on his prostate like a wisp of wind on his skin, so light but good it makes the gunslinger shiver. And then, Hanzo is driving back in. So much faster than the first time. His body moves with the thrust, bunching up as he’s speared on the cock. A bone-deep moan rolls out of the gunslinger, too gone to care about being quiet. 

The cheap bed creaks below them, protesting their gentle movements. Hanzo’s thrusts are slow, but deep, pushing and pulling Jesse apart. Each one feels like the archer is digging into his core, tearing him from the inside out in the slowest, sweetest ways, the pleasure rolling over him in golden waves. Hanzo squeezes the thigh he is holding, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful…” Hanzo’s ragged voice stabs through his haze, drawing his attention back to the man, “All spread out like this…” His voice drops, a seductive rumble of thunder in Jesse’s ear, “All for  _ me _ .”

“For you, only you, only ever you,” Jesse babbles, little hiccuping gasps and moans falling from his lips as Hanzo fucks him. It feels so good, his muscles twitching and jerking in response to the steadily faster thrusts. Precum drools from the tip of his cock, the throb and ache a siren song of need.

Noises fall from Jesse without a thought - moans growing steadily louder in the room. Abruptly, he’s manhandled, shifted back so that Hanzo can slide his other arm below McCree’s neck. Three fingers, the clean ones thankfully, press into the gunslinger’s mouth. Jesse gasps, licking and sucking on them. They muffle his sound as Hanzo picks up the pace. He counts the piercings, the push and pull of them going faster and faster. They press into his prostate and Jesse sees stars, choking on the fingers in his mouth. Mindful, despite his pleasure, to not bite down.

Tears gather at the corner of his eyes. Hanzo is panting, hips jerking in and out of rhythm. If the bed was creaking before, it is groaning and shouting, the wall it is against thumping softly with their movements. “My sweet Jesse. You are so incredibly good to me. You give me everything I ask and then some. My beautiful, wonderful man.”

It builds again, tight and hard in his stomach. Jesse groans around the fingers, driving his hips back against Hanzo’s. They are reckless and loud, the sound of skin on skin a gunshot in the quiet of the room. It doesn’t matter - all he can focus on is the way their bodies move, the way he is being fucked senseless. The way the pressure in his pelvis is mounting tight and high, the sensation so strong he is shaking, shivering from it all.

“You’re close.” Hanzo rasps. All the gunslinger can do is moan in agreement. “You have done so well for me. Come whenever you want, Jesse.”

His noises grow as desperate as the arch of his back. Hanzo holds him tight, furiously fucking into him. It’s so close, so tantalizingly close. Pre leaks from him like a faucet, rudy red dick lying thick and hot on the sheets. Hanzo’s voice, strained and husky, washes over him, “Come for me, My Sun. Let go. Give it all to me.”  
It starts at the tips of his toes growing in him as he shouts, the tension in him like a taut cord finally snapping. He clenches hard around Hanzo and cums untouched, thick strings of white cum soiling the sheets, “Just like that. Such a good boy. Keep cumming for me.” Hanzo’s voice is hollow and strained, his hips falling quickly out of rhythm until, with a harsh grunt, he stills. Deep inside, Jesse can feel the cock twitch and fill him, the sensation eaking out the final dribbles of his release.

So far gone, he doesn’t feel the fingers slide out of his mouth. He does notice when they are replaced with lips. They kiss, slow and sweet, the deep afterglow settling on Jesse makes him exhausted and sated. 

Hanzo’s cock softens and slides out of him. He clenches, trying to hold in the cum, but it leaks anyway. The hand that had been holding up his thigh rubs against his clenched hole, “It’s all right, My Sun. I’ll catch it.”

Groaning softly, Jesse lets it out, the thick cum oozing from him into Hanzo’s hand. “Good boy. Rest, my beloved.” He must doze then because Hanzo suddenly has a clean rag and is wiping him down. “You are so good to me, Jesse. I love you.”

“Love ya too, pumpkin.” He slurs, sleepy and contented. Hanzo’s chuckle makes him smile like a dope, a soft kiss on his forehead forcing his eyes to flutter closed.

“Rest, My Sun. Tomorrow is fast approaching.” 

He’s exhausted the next morning. So is Hanzo. So is the team, oddly. They shamble around a little diner, sipping coffee and eating breakfast food. Genji and Angela sit at their table.

“Did you hear that couple last night?” Genji asks around a mouthful of toast. It takes all of Jesse’s will to not turn fire truck red and freeze up at the question.

“Hmm, I know I did. Apparently, Jack booked us at one of those hourly rate hotels.” Angela sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. If Jesse wasn’t studying the fine way the grease puddled on his gravy, he’d make some sort of sympathizing note or agree, “There were many incidents.”

“Yes we also were kept up from those loud couples,” Hanzo mutters it and sips his coffee, as cool as a cucumber. Only the slight narrowing of Genji’s eyes show that the ninja has doubts. 

Choking down a bite, Jesse nods, “Yeah, all night long. Worst damn thing.” Before Genji can challenge, Angela launches into a health explanation on how awful the place is. It saves them a truck ton of hassle.

A firm squeeze on his thigh makes him look at Hanzo. His Moon is smiling warmly, a twinkle in his eye.


End file.
